Metallic and other short stories
by Little Miss Bovver
Summary: Each chapter is a new one-shot unless stated. So i don't flood the BoB category, I'll post all my one-shot/drabbles/etc here. : Please review. Mostly slash. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

'**Fallen for it?' I mumbled almost incomprehensibly. **

'**Bella, did you really believe he was that noble? That he would go out in a flame of glory, just to clear the way for me?'**

**One-Shot Slash**

**Disclaimer:**I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. This is merely a representation of what goes on in my perverted mind when one watches Band of Brothers. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. This is based on HBO'S miniseries. Thank you =]

**What do I want****:** Reviews

**Other information:** These are all most likely to be M rated one-shots/drabbles/parts. A few may be AU, though most will be set during the series. The two quotes are from Stephenie Meyer's 'Eclipse'.

**My hands were gripping his arms, pulling myself tighter to him, my mouth glued to his and answering every unspoken question his asked. **

**I tried to clear my head, to find a way to speak.**

**He rolled gently, pressing me into the cool grass.**

_**Oh never mind!**_** My less noble side exulted. My head was full of the sweetness of his breath. **


	2. Metallic

**Pairing: **Winters/Nixon

**Rated: **PG-15

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**Other information:** A short AU, set post-war

Metallic

Nixon took a swig from his hipflask, savouring the taste. The liquid heated his stomach and the dark haired man gave a growl of approval.

'Lew?' The voice sent another burst of warmth through him. Nix looked up to meet Dick's eyes.

'Dick,' he slurred slightly.

'You're drunk.'

'No shit.' Nixon stepped towards him, reaching out, groping for him. He pulled Winters forward, surveying the redhead. 'You always come back,' he said, voice hoarse. 'Why?'

Winters stayed silent and Nixon sighed.

There was a pause and suddenly they were kissing. It was rough and drunken on Nixon's behalf, softer and more reserved on Winters'. The alcoholic taste was metallic on Winters tongue, but he went for it greedily.

'I come back because it hurts to leave you,' he murmured against Lew's lips. 'Hurts every time.'


	3. The Banjo

**Pairing: **Malarkey/Skip

**Rated: **PG-15

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**Other information:** /

The Banjo

_I've been waiting on my own too long._

_When you hold me like you do, it feels so right._

'Are you serious?' asked Malark, raising an eyebrow as Skip came into the room. 'A banjo? Where the hell did you find that?'

'In the abandoned farmhouse; it was stuffed away in a cupboard. Anyway, I think it suits me.' He strummed it for effect. 'Look what else I can do!' Skip beamed. He stood with his legs apart, before making a small tune. He looked up at Malarkey with a proud expression on his face.

'Come here,' Don laughed, grabbing Skip's wrist and pulling him against his chest, the banjo sandwiched between them. The redhead met his lips, running his tongue along Skip's bottom lip. Muck granted him entrance, hands gripping the material that covered Don's arms. The banjo was forgotten.


	4. Untitled

**Pairing: **Roe

**Rated: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**Other information:**

Untitled

June 4th 1944

Upottery, England

Roe stared out at all the soldiers, the breeze chilling the back of his neck. His face was pulled in a frown, worry nagging him as always; a million questions of doubt. Would their plane get hit? Would he be shot when he jumped? Would he be able to help those who get shot?

Roe was nervous. Getting to his feet, he walked towards the plane.


	5. He couldn't help, but be jealous

Les Hashey's thoughts on Babe when they first arrive as replacements.

He couldn't help but be jealous

Private Hashey was not happy. He took a long sip of his beer, eyes narrowed as he glanced angrily up at Heffron. Why was he accepted by the Toccoa men straight away, while the others had to work hard to make even an acquaintance? Babe was a mere replacement too, just like Hashey.

Babe grinned at the Sergeants, as he won his third game of darts. Then, he turned to glance smugly back at him, Garcia and Miller.

Hashey gritted his teeth and looked away. He remembered their first day training at Toccoa. Some guy called Evans was really digging into Babe. 'Coward. Good for nothing! You want to fight the Germans, yet you can't even get your safety harness on properly!'

It had been Hashey who'd been brave enough to stand up for Babe.

It had been Hashey who'd helped Babe run up Currahee when the redhead's legs were ready to give way.

It had been Hashey who'd swapped rifles with Babe when Babe had jammed the bullets in the wrong way round. It had been Hashey who'd taken the blame. This was how the ungrateful jerk repaid him?

But, Hashey still defended him, looked out for him, would bloody well kill for him if it meant saving his life.

Because that's what lovers did, right?


	6. He hated it all

A short story on Buck's feelings towards Roe as he sees more and more of his friends killed everyday Based during Bastogne

He hated it all

Eugene Roe could have done more to help Hoobler.

Maybe it was hard to blame someone who had only tried their best, but it was harder sitting there and watching your friends die.

You had to blame someone. You had to have someone to hate.

It happened to be Roe that Buck despised. Too many men had died and he was sure that Roe could have done more to save them.

'Sir?' the sound of the medic's voice broke through his thoughts. Buck looked up to see Roe crouching against a tree, hands dangling lazily between his legs.

'Yes?' asked Buck, a little too sharply. Roe got slowly to his feet and sauntered – actually _sauntered!_ – over to him. The blonde raised himself to his full height, pale blue eyes wary.

'I just wanted to know, sir,' began Roe, 'have I done anything to offend you?'

'Why would you think that?' Buck replied lightly as Roe stopped short, inches away.

'You've been glaring at me all night,' the younger man replied pointedly. Snow started to drift down in clumps, flecking Roe's dark hair. Buck didn't answer. 'So, there _is_ something wrong.' A frown etched Roe's face and he met Buck's gaze hard.

'Is there anything I can do to make things right?'

'How about trying to save my friends next time? Instead of letting them die?' The reply stung Roe, his dark eyes widening ever so slightly.

'Don't you think I try?' he hissed in return. 'Do you actually think I'm happy going to sleep with their blood on my hands? With their terrified faces in my thoughts?'

Buck set his lips in a hard line.

'You know,' Roe continued. 'Sometimes I'm glad they die. Sometimes it's good that they got out of this place. Maybe death is the only option!'

Before Roe had time to realize what was happening, Buck was shoving him backwards. His back slammed roughly against the tree. His hands gripped Roe's collar hard, blue eyes blazing.

'Don't you ever say that,' he snarled. 'Don't ever say you're glad!'

And Roe pushed back and grabbed Buck flush against him, slamming his lips against the blonde's.

'I hate it,' he said into Buck's mouth. 'I hate being the medic and I hate the war and I hate the death. I hate it all.' Buck pushed his lips aggressively back, all their pain escaping through that searing act.

'I hate it all!'


	7. If only he'd been born earlier

**Pairing:** Perco/O'Keefe?  
**Rated:** PG-13  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you  
**How this came to be:** I was bored in Maths. And really wanted to write. I even remembered to make 'mum' 'mom' :D  
**Other information:** This is Paddy's thoughts on being a replacement, Perco and the Jews in the concentration camp.

If only he'd been born earlier

Patrick O'Keefe hated everything about being a replacement; they were treated like idiots, like they were dumb and didn't know what to do. It wasn't his fault that he hadn't been born earlier. It wasn't his fault that his mom had put up a fight against his idea to lie about his age and join at sixteen.

If he'd gotten into the war earlier, he'd have been able to fight with them in Normandy, France, and in the trees of Bastogne. Paddy would have earned the respect from the men and he would have proved that he wasn't just some stupid kid.

But, he_ had_ been born too late and his mom _had_ protested and he _had_ no respect. Because he hadn't been there; he hadn't seen what they had seen.

It wasn't fair that Perconte rubbed it in every five minutes aswell; told him over and over that he wasn't a big man. Asked him again and again if he knew which way to point the gun, in which direction to aim the muzzle.

Then, there was all this bother. That's how Paddy described it; one big bother with all the starving men and all the dead bodies and the charred huts and even more men and bodies.

The smell never left him and the sight was always in his mind – behind his eyelids whenever he closed his eyes. Etched on his brain.

It bothered him, therefore, it was one big bother.

The pain in their eyes was unbelievable. They looked lost and they groped at him like he was some raft that would stop them from drowning. They'd sob and murmur '_Thank you. Thank you_,' over and over like a chant.

Their ribs stuck out and their wrists were painfully branded like cattle.

Paddy wondered who would do something like this. It made him sick- physically sick. It made him angry and sad and frustrated. Paddy sat down on the charred remains of a hut, knowing there'd be burnt bodies under the wood, but trying not to think about it.

And he cried. He couldn't help it. He was seeing things he couldn't even imagine, the smell catching in the back of his throat and making him retch.

Perco stopped and stared and for once he said nothing because he understood.

And later, he'd hold the young replacement, letting him stifle his sobs in his chest as their minds replayed the scenes like a broken record.

If he'd been born earlier, there would have been a chance he'd have died sooner and then, he wouldn't have had to see that.

«The End»


	8. Leave me alone

**Pairing: **Frank/George

**Episode: **9

Set during the episode: Why we fight. Perco's thoughts on Luz and the German girl. Drabble.

Leave me alone

'Luz, why don't you leave her alone?'

'Frank, why don't you just leave me alone, okay?'

The words stung Frank even though they weren't meant in that way; Luz just wanted some privacy with the German girl.

A stab of envy twisted in his stomach like a knife. Frank knew he could give Luz better, but he was too scared to say anything.

He remembered the first and only time he and George had been together; in Normandy, hidden away where the other men couldn't see. Luz hadn't said anything since it happened, but Frank couldn't stop thinking about it.

With a sigh, he turned and walked away.


	9. If you're happy and you know it

**Pairing****/Characters: **James Miller, Roy Cobb.

**Rated:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**What do I want:** your thoughts

**How this came to be:** Hell, that exam was boring... I just started to write and the doodle paper she gave us and refused to give it up without a fight.

**Other information:** Miller's thoughts on Cobb.

If you're happy and you know it…

You can only smile if you're happy.

James Miller was usually happy. Until he met Cobb; sadist bastard. Cruel hearted; he laughed at others misfortune.

James always imagined Cobb to be the child who pulled wings off butterflies.

He was probably the bully of the playground, the one that pushed the younger ones over and laughed.

Cobb mocked. He was sour and everything nasty.

One day, James got so annoyed, he told Cobb everything he thought.

The normal Cobb would have lashed out and probably beat him in drunken rage.

But, Cobb's face set. He took a swig from his bottle and calmly replied, 'You don't know the half of it, Miller. I would have liked to see you live my childhood.' He walked off.

James stared after him in mild confusion.

Cobb never smiled; you can't unless you're happy.


	10. Like butterflies

**Pairing/Characters: **Roy Cobb

**Rated:** PG-15

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**How this came to be:** This is a sequel to If you're happy and you know it… which tells us about Cobb's childhood and why he's so *evil*

**Other information:** /

Like Butterflies

Cobb had only been young when it had happened. His daddy was shouting and throwing his fists about and his mommy was crying and hiding Roy behind her back.

His daddy walked out the door and didn't come back.

Cobb had only been young when it had happened. His dog was chasing a rabbit. Mommy yelled, 'Come back!' but the dog didn't listen. It ran into the road and was hit by a car.

The dog died.

Cobb had only been young when the children in the playground pushed him and laughed. His mommy said that they were silly children and went to shout at them.

After that, no one spoke to him. They left him alone in a corner.

Cobb was sixteen when that other man came into the house. The one who smelt of too much cologne and always had a big fat cigar hanging out his mouth.

The one that stole his mom and shut Roy away.

The horrible one. The one that would punch Cobb and see what he was worth.

Cobb was angry when he grabbed mom's vase and threw it at the man; the faceless man. The man that meant nothing to him.

Cobb was happy when the man hit the floor and the blood dripped from his head.

Cobb was proud the day he got his jump wings. He found out, when he was young, that he didn't need anyone to get what he wanted. When he cried, his mom used to give him candy. When he argued and didn't give up, his mom used to give him hugs to try and ease the anger.

If someone else argued and didn't give up, he gave them a vase to the head.

Cobb didn't need anyone. Yeah, they might call him cruel and sadist and nasty, but he didn't care.

He had no reason to care. They had no reason to even breathe never him.

He was happy alone. He just didn't smile.


	11. Not again

**Pairing/Characters: **Skinny/Liebgott/Webster

**Rated:** PG-15

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**How this came to be:** I wanted to write some Skinny!

**Other information:** Skinny's thoughts on Liebgott and Web's fighting.

Not again

They were arguing again. Bitching and scrapping. It seemed to be all they ever did.

Skinny gave a sigh, an unimpressed look on his face as Liebgott yelled demands and accusations at Webster. It seemed every moment of the day, they were at each other's throats, pulling at each other's hair; metaphorically, of course.

They've never actually fought with fists, though sometimes there's a look in Joe's eyes and Skinny knows he just wants to punch Web.

Sometimes, Skinny doesn't blame him. Sometimes, Skinny does.

When they argue, he just stands in the background; a loose screw; not really there as the other two fight. It annoyed him a little. So easily forgotten about…

He always liked Joe best. If Joe told him to jump, he'd ask 'How high?' That's why he shot that Nazi who ran the Concentration Camp. Because Webster was too scared; he'd seen everything Skinny and Joe had seen; all those men; the starved bodies; the dead corpses. And yet he couldn't shoot the bastard that had done it.

So Skinny did. He did it without regret, because Joe wanted it done.

Webster would thank them later.


	12. Numb feeling

**Pairing:** Skip/Malarkey

**Rated:** PG-15 for language and impliedness.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**How this came to be:** I also wrote this during a French exam. I guess I'm feeling in a really emo mood, as I wrote six rather angst pieces today.

**Other information:** Set after Skip's death in Bastogne.

Numb Feeling

A small touch. A single kiss. The brush of hands on his skin.

It's what Malarkey missed the most.

The smiles. The laughter. The jokes and pranks.

It's what Malarkey missed the most.

The Hugs. The comfort. The fact that he'd always be there.

It's what Malarkey missed the most.

The lustful looks. The moans. The nibbled skin.

It's what Malarkey missed the most.

The friendship. The loyalty. The love.

It was killing him.

But the foxhole was nothing and now Skip was nothing.

Blown to pieces. Ripped out heart.

Fucking war.

Malarkey; alone in this dark abyss.


	13. No pain now

**Pairing/Characters: **Smokey Gordon

**Rated:** PG-13

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**How this came to be:** I just started typing and this came out.

**Other information:** When Smokey is shot in Bastogne and finds out he is paralyzed.

No pain now

Suddenly, it didn't hurt. Suddenly, he didn't feel. This confused Smokey. He could see the wound and he could see the blood. He just couldn't feel it.

When he turned his head to the side, he could see Lipton standing on his hand. He just couldn't feel the pressure.

It unnerved him.

Smokey couldn't move very well; he felt floppy, like a rag doll. Roe tugged him and pulled him and Smokey just flopped this way and that. He wanted to move. He wanted to jump to his feet and insist he was alright. Insist he could go and fight with the men.

Instead, he just gave a weak sob. He felt lifeless; he had no energy.

Roe took him to the aid station. Smokey was thrown onto a stretcher and bounced down the steps. Everything was surreal. Then, one of the medics was growling words at Roe, words Smokey refused to listen to as he tried fruitlessly to move. Move anything.

'He's paralysed.'

'What?' Smokey was thinking the same thing. Paralyzed? No. He felt fine.

'He's paralysed. He can't feel a thing.'

Another sob. And Smokey lay still.


	14. Make Believe

**Pairing/Characters: **Liebgott/Malarkey and past Malarkey/Penkala/Skip

**Rated:** M

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**How this came to be:** I had this bunny in my head since watching The Last Patrol and seeing Liebgott in the shower behind Malarkey

**Other information:** Malarkey needs someone to make him feel alive after the loss of his best friends and Liebgott needs someone to let his anger out over Webster.

Make-Believe

Maybe, if Malarkey believed it hard enough, it wouldn't be Liebgott pounded him harshly from behind. Maybe, it would become the playful tussle Skip loved, or the sweet caresses which Penkala enjoyed.

Maybe, if Malarkey believed it hard enough, it wasn't Liebgott murmured hard words in his ear. The hard words weren't for him though. They were for Webster; Webster, who Joe was so angry at.

No. He believed the words were sweet nothings, murmured by Skip. Suddenly, Joe was biting on his neck, then his shoulder and he hurt, but he didn't feel. Couldn't feel. Because he wasn't there. He was with Skip and Penkala, being nibbled teasingly.

Liebgott thrust harder and came with a grunt. After a moment, he pulled out and sat back, eyes on the redhead still knelt in front of him; bare-assed and still.

And Malarkey exhaled, the world rushing back to him because he knew he wasn't with those two and that he was with Joe; rough, angry Joe.

And they would do it all again. As long as Malark could make-believe.


	15. The Sweetest Taboo

Pairing/ Characters: Lipton/Popeye

Rated: M

Disclaimer: I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

How this came to be: I wrote it at school when I got bored of BTEC coursework and thus, it was born!

Other information: Lipton and Popeye relight their flame of… love? And yeah, remember the rudey-dudey things they got up to in Germany. And… please read. It's slash :D!

The Sweetest Taboo

The Eagle's Nest was a place of pleasure and beauty if nothing else. Lipton stared out over the Alps, a bottle of Cognac grasped in his fist. A content sigh left his lips.

They'd been here for about a week, just enjoying what Hitler had left them; antiques, paintings worth thousands, statues and other works of art and not forgetting, a very large wine cellar.

The men of Easy Company deserved to take what they wanted and Lipton certainly wasn't complaining. He drained the bottle before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Climbing to his feet, he placed the bottle on the table and walked off, leaving Harry snoozing quietly behind him.

Most of the men were sleeping. After two years of war, you couldn't blame them. Moving through the Eagle's Nest, Carwood made for the stairs. He strolled up them, smiling at Patrick O'Keefe as the young man saluted him.

'Good afternoon, sir,' he said, brightly.

'Good afternoon, O'Keefe,' Lipton replied. When he got to the top of the stairs, he pushed open the oak door to his right and peered in.

Popeye was sprawled on the sofa, his lips slightly parted as he quietly slept. Lipton smiled, moving into the room and shutting the door behind him. He approached the sleeping man, sitting by his feet. Placing a hand on his side, he shook him softly.

'Popeye?' he murmured. The younger man opened his bleary eyes and yawned.

'Whatisit?' he muttered, shutting his eyes again and shifting to get comfy.

'You going to come down for some food?' he asked.

'Not yet.'

'You've been sleeping for two days straight,' Lipton smiled. 'I think it'd be best if you came down for something to eat.' Popeye grumbled something under his breath, turned and laid on his back.

'Two days?' he groaned. Lipton nodded, looking at Popeye fondly. Then, he slowly sat up with another big yawn. He blinked to get Lipton into focus before giving a sheepish smile. 'That was the best sleep of my life, Lip.'

'I bet it was.' There was a pause, before the officer continued. 'They were the longest two days of my life.'

'Really?' Popeye frowned. 'Why?'

'I missed you,' Lipton said with a shrug, but his ears were pink and he looked away. Popeye gave a grin and brushed his fingers against the warm skin of Lip's neck. Carwood's smile became broader and he glanced up. Their eyes met, an awkward silence filling the room.

'You mentioned food?' asked Popeye, letting his hand drop. Lipton nodded, clearing his throat and getting to his feet.

'Yes. We're down in the main dining room.' His voice was still husky, so he gave a quick nod and moved out the room. Popeye gazed at the place where Carwood had been. He sighed and he remembered.

_**Germany**_

_Popeye picked up his rifle, teeth gritted in frustration before he slammed the butt on the floor of the Kraut house they'd taken over. _

'_Anything wrong, Popeye?' asked Lipton as he stepped into the room, an eyebrow raised._

'_Bullet's jammed, Lip,' the shorter man replied, sitting back on his knees with a sigh. 'Can't get the damned thing in.' Stepping over, Lipton picked up the gun and peered down the barrel. A frown creased his brow._

'_Jesus, Pop. When was the last time you cleaned this thing?'_

'_I've been busy you know; Bastogne, keeping warm, exploding trees…' _

'_I get your point. It's full of dirt in there.'_

'_I'll get it cleaned.' Lipton nodded, lowering the rifle. Suddenly, he felt Popeye's close proximity as the younger man stepped close behind him. A slow, tentative hand pressed against the small of his back and he forced himself not to lean into it._

_The sergeant turned, unable to look anywhere, but into Popeye's gaze. All Lip could feel was his warm breath caressing his face and Popeye's hand now on his hip._

_Then, his lips came crashing down onto the Private's before he could stop them. Popeye's tongue pushed against his lips and he granted him entry, a low groan rumbling from the back of his throat. He grabbed Popeye, pulling him against his chest, flush against his body. Lipton kissed him hard, biting down on Popeye's bottom lip every now and again until they broke for air._

_Suddenly, Popeye was pushed to his knees and he knew in an instant what Lip wanted. Unzipping him, Popeye slipped his hand in to grasp the engorged member. Lipton bit his bottom lip to stifle another groan as the man on the floor pulled out his cock, working his hand feverishly. _

_Popeye smiled a little as he squeezed the base, before gradually sliding his hand up. His let two fingers fuck the tip for a moment, before leaning forward to give it a lick. The pre-cum tasted salty, but he suckled at it greedily for a second. Popeye paused his actions for a moment, causing Lipton to give a mutter of protest, pushing his hips back towards his face._

'_Wait,' he said, getting to his feet. He looked a little shy, so Lip stepped forward and kissed him in a hard and demanding way. _

'_Let me fuck you,' he muttered in the smaller man's ear, knowing exactly what it was that Popeye wanted. He nodded, kissing him again. The, stepping away, he unzipped his trousers and let them fall around his ankles. _

_Lipton pressed him into the wall, biting down on the exposed flesh of his neck. Turning around, Popeye pressed his face against the wall, feeling excitement and anticipation shoot through him when he felt Lipton ease up his crack. Clamping his teeth down on his shoulder, Lipton smirked and pushed._

--

Popeye Wynn didn't think he'd ever eaten such good food in his whole life; chicken legs and vegetables and slabs of rich meat and wine – plenty of wine.

He tucked in with vigour, not leaving a single morsel of food on his plate. He sat with Chuck and Tab and they joked and laughed; it felt good to have fun after all this time. It felt good to relax without fear of having German weaponry firing at you.

It felt good to be safe.

Lipton watched Popeye from across the table, a small smile lingering on his lips. His mind was full of questions and slight confusion and not many answers. It had happened so sudden, so quick; it was rough and it was a release and… Lipton shook his head. How had they been friends one minute and lovers the next?

Sighing, Lipton got to his feet, moving towards the door. Popeye looked up; he was leaning back in his chair, his shirt buttons undone, one hand draped lazily across his full stomach. 'Do you want company, sir?' he asked. Lipton looked back at him. He glanced at the other men, all content with chatting, before giving a nod.

'That would be nice.' Popeye got to his feet, draining his bottle of wine. He moved away from the table and together they left the dining room. They walked in companionable silence until they got to the large oak doors that led outside.

'Sir,' saluted a young replacement, who was guarding the door with his buddy.

'Afternoon,' Lipton replied, as the two pulled open the doors. Lipton stepped outside, the warm sun hitting his face. The doors were shut behind them and then they were alone.

The two strolled together through the light speckle of trees before the forest grew thicker and hid them. There was an unmindful smile on Popeye's face; he was happy, therefore Lipton was happy; confused, frustrated and slightly irritated, but happy. Then, it was awkward. Both the men suddenly felt the frozen silence in their skin; it seeped through their bones. Lipton cleared his throat.

'I… I didn't hurt you, did I?' he asked, trying not to look flushed.

'A little,' the smaller man replied, honestly.

'Sorry,' Lipton said, feeling guilty. He'd been so rough, just thinking about himself and not how Popeye must have been feeling. He used him as a toy and nothing else, but the feelings were coming to him now. Truthfully, he wanted this more than he had realised at the time. 'If you don't mind me asking, Popeye, but… why?' The two soldiers crunched through the fallen leaves, before coming to a standstill.

'I don't know,' he replied; he was telling the truth in a way. He'd wanted Lipton and had got it and now he wanted him again and he'd be damned if he didn't get it. 'It just happened.' There was a pause. 'I liked it,' Popeye added bluntly. 'It was different.'

'It really was,' Lipton agreed, with a humourless chuckle. It fell quiet again, Popeye staring at him, scrutinizing him.

'Would it be an experience you'd like to repeat, _sir?_' A small smirk formed on his lips at the last word. The older man stared down at him for a moment and when he didn't answer, Popeye took this as confirmation. He stepped forward, hand coming up to push Lipton's face into his. He kissed him hard.

Lipton couldn't help, but groan softly, his own hands gripping his shirt clad arms. Popeye pressed himself against him, his own hands clutching at Lip's shoulders. He moaned into his mouth, easing his knee between the older man's legs.

'Please,' he murmured and it was all he needed to say. Pushing him back, Lipton pressed him hard against a tree. His teeth gently nibbled Pop's ear lobe and he relished the taste of the skin on his neck. His hand slipped between them to release himself from the confides of his trousers, his erection straining desperately against his briefs. Popeye copied him, both moaning in unison when their cocks brushed. Wetting his fingers with his mouth, Lipton lubricated his dick as the other man turned, ready and waiting. He remembered the night in Germany well; it was buzzing in his mind as he pushed himself into Popeye. With a satisfied murmured against his neck, Lipton stilled, waiting for Popeye to adjust; he hadn't wanted before. Before, he'd steamrolled ahead, his only thoughts of his satisfaction. It wouldn't be the same this time.

He pulled out slowly until only the tip of his dick was inside, before slamming back in. Hitting his prostate, Popeye gave a cry at the pleasure that made his dick jerk. His hand came up to grip it as Lip found a rhythm. He fucked him hard, his hands coming up to grip Popeye's hips. Grunts and groans escaped their lips. Popeye continued to jerk himself off, but all too soon he stiffened as he came. His ass clamped down on Lipton's cock, causing the older man to bite down on the first thing his teeth met to stop him calling out.

After he came, Lip slumped against him for a moment. His legs were shaking, heart thudding in his chest. Slowly, pulling himself out, he wiped his dick on his sleeve before tucking it away.

Lipton looked away while Popeye sorted himself out. 'They'll be wondering where we are,' he said, quietly. The younger man nodded, leading the way after he'd wiped his hands on the leaf blanketed ground.

Then, the two made their way back through the trees towards the Eagle's Nest. And Lipton smiled when Popeye gently squeezed his hand.

'Thank you,' he murmured.

'What for?' frowned Lipton.

'This. Everything. All through this war you've been there without fail, to help us. Thank you.' Lip paused to kiss him again and without another word, they made their way up towards the beautiful building poking out the trees ahead of them.

«The End»


	16. Flames

**Pairing/ Characters: **Unknown Soldier/Unknown Soldier

**Rated:** PG-15; war gore

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**How this came to be:** I was listening to Leona Lewis' Run and two lines made the plot bunnies sniff

**Other information:** Is slash.

Flames

_To think I might not see those eyes_

_Makes it so hard not to cry_

I let my hand reach out and touch the scarred face of my fellow soldier.

I let my fingers run over the ridges and twisted marks on his face and I let out a sigh. Only days before, we'd been together, cuddled up and warm; satisfied and safe. Breathlessly, we'd talked in an undertone as not to wake the others. I cupped my lover's cheek and allowed my thumb to trace patterns.

And we kissed.

And it was sweet and then we slept.

But, war was harsh. War was horrible and it ripped apart lives and it _hurt_. Hell, it hurt.

One moment, we were stood together and then the next the world was tossed around and so were we; like rag dolls.

Flames licked and we tumbled, limp.

When I woke, I stared at the high ceiling of the ward, the chatter of other patients and the nurses and the doctors, but I didn't really hear.

My mind was on other things.

'Nurse,' I called. My voice was a croak; dry and cracked. She bustled over.

'You're awake,' she beamed, placing a cool hand on my head. There was a smile on her lips, but her eyes were troubled.

Quietly, I asked where _he_ was. She frowned and I requested again. Nicely. Then, she sighed and stepped to the side and I looked at the bed beside me and he was there. Laid on his back, still, a cloth draped over his eyes.

Instantly, I try and get up, but I have no balance and topple down again. I stare at the sheets. I frown and lift them up and I retch and cry out in fear.

I have no legs.

The nurse tries to hush me as I cry out and sob, but I push her away. Other soldiers look over as I almost topple off the bed and a doctor hurries over to calm me.

Now, my bed is pressed against his and I'm still crying, but silently now. I remove the cloth. His face is twisted from the burns and the doctor tells me he'll never see again.

But, I vow I'll never leave his side. He stirs, listening to my murmurs.

'Is it you?' he asked, tilting his head awkwardly towards the sound of my voice.

'Yes,' I reply. 'Looking good.'

'You too.'

We both laugh at this and he reaches out, patting the sheets until he locates my hand and he squeezes it in his firm grip.

We're going to be okay.


	17. You call me a sinner

**Title: **You call me a sinner  
**Fandom: **Band of Brothers  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Liebgott/Webster  
**Prompt:** 033: provoke  
**Rating: **M  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Slash  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own Band of Brothers, or any of the actors/real men. I mean no disrespect. Based on the actors only.  
**A/N:** I'm in a very Webgotty mood… *goes to watch The Last Patrol and Points*

You call me a sinner

Webster hated the effect Joe Liebgott had on him. The ability to have him weak at the knees with one of _those_ looks.

The ability to have his heart beating erratically in his chest as soon as Joe stepped close.

The ability to have him begging for more during the heated kissing sessions, where Joe would just suddenly back off and walk away.

Tease.

Oh, and those dirty words. Foul words that would come out of Liebgott's mouth during sex; to get him off or to humiliate the man underneath, Webster was never sure.

And Joe loved to provoke him; the smile twisted on his lips as he told Web what a little bitch he was.

Foul words.

David would _never_ use them.

'Suck it,' Joe would growl in his ear, hands tightening on Web's shoulder as he pushed him down. 'Goddamn it, Web, you blow like a fish.'

Webster was used to the insults.

Sometimes, he even enjoyed them. Not often though. Joe loved it rough; went at it like a starved man with food.

Web shuddered under Joe's gaze, feeling electricity take a direct route to his groin. He shifted uncomfortably, before exhaling sharply as Joe approached and gripped his wrist.

'What's the matter?' he asked, with that same hard smirk. 'Too good for me?' And then Web was on his knees again.

And Joe called _him _a sinner.

##


	18. Let it will be

**Title: **Let it will be  
**Fandom: **Band of Brothers  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Cobb/Liebgott  
**Prompt:** 051: games

**Rating: **M  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Man on man, slash  
**Disclaimer: **I think we all know by now I don't own BoB, or any of its characters.  
**A/N:** A little fanfiction for Katherine, who gave me the plot bunny for this, by saying Cobb and Liebgott were touching legs while we were watching it xD

Let it will be

It started with the feet.

They'd be in the dinner hall in Toccoa, eating the sludge they called food, when Liebgott's foot would gently brush Cobb's ankle.

Roy would pause, hesitate, look up and see him smirking at him from across the table. Then, it would be Cobb's turn.

He let his foot drag slowly up Liebgott's leg, until it reached his inner thigh. And then, by bad luck, it was time for them to go and change for Currahee.

They didn't touch again until Aldbourne.

In the pub, Joe moved to stand beside Cobb. They didn't hide; that would look too obvious. Instead, they were stood in the middle with the drinkers.

That's when it started with the hands. Liebgott let one hand touch the fist of Roy's, his fingers running slowly up his arm, causing goosebumps to rise.

His fingers got to his elbow and he squeezed it gently; surprisingly gently for the reputation both men had.

They didn't touch until Holland.

It was night-time; a cool night; a cloudy night. Everyone's minds were on Bull, so none noticed the two slip off into the night.

That's when it started with the torso. Roy pulled Joe closer; roughly; yanking him to his chest. His hands went from his shoulders and down. They wasted no time. Liebgott's zipper undone.

Joe gave a smile seldom seen and Cobb covered it with his own. Tongues battled and low moans were smothered by lips and hands.

Cobb was pushed into the dirt, biting grass, eyes squeezed as he felt a pleasure that burned; that scolded and made him ache. But he took it. He took it as Liebgott ran his hand over his back, leaning forward to bite his shoulder.

And pump and thrust and burst.

Oh, and groan and it was almost magical.

And it had all started with the feet.

##


	19. Without You

**Title: **Without you  
**Fandom: **Band of Brothers  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Bull/Johnny  
**Prompt:** 013: rough  
**Rating: **M  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Slash  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own Band of Brothers, or any of the actors/real men. I mean no disrespect. Based on the actors only.  
**A/N:** This fic is dedicated to justkool108! Short, but smutty.

Without you

Martin couldn't help, but let a moan escape; a groan that came from the back of his throat and erupt over his lips. He heard Bull return it from behind him. He felt the pressure on his hips, as Bull dug his fingers in, pounding harder as he approached ecstasy.

Martin dug his fingers into the dirt below, gripping anything, trying to get a hold from the waves that were building and rolling; starting from the pit of his stomach and sending electric sparks to his groan.

'_Bull_…' he grumbled, eyes squeezed shut as he was suddenly coming in hot spurts. He slumped like a broken doll, Bull keeping a tight hold of him as the bigger man kept the steady rhythm going.

And finally Bull let go, head knocked back, a pure look of pleasure on his face as he came. Fingers loosened hold slightly and he exhaled sharply.

Johnny managed to stand up, legs feeling shaky, inspecting the red marks on his hips. Bull's bruises of ownership already had him smiling; they went well with the bite marks on his shoulders.

##


	20. Vat69

**Title:** Because all you need is a bottle of Vat69 and a good friend

**Fandom:** Band of Brothers

**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Winters/Nixon

**Prompt:** 020: alcohol

**Rating: **M to be safe

**Warning/Spoilers:** slash, alcohol and drunkenness

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them.

**A/N: **I've had this title playing around in my head for a long time and now I've finally found a use for it. Also, I know things might not be in the right order with Nix's divorce letter, as I wasn't quite sure, but I think it turned out okay. It's set in Germany.

Because all you need is a bottle of Vat69 and a good friend

The first kiss had been the sweetest; sober and meaningful.

So had the second and the third.

It was the fourth kiss that was different. Nixon was drunk and angry; after Kathy had filed for a divorce, he seemed to have lost all meaning. He didn't care.

Of course, he had Dick, but even he couldn't give him the soft curves and wet warmth of a woman.

Once again, Nix staggered into Dick's room; a well decorated German home. He blinked, trying to focus as Winters looked up from the map he was reading.

'Lew?' The word was soft and imploring and Nix stared back at him, before tumbling over to the wardrobe and pulling it open.

A single bottle of Vat69 lay amidst the many dresses that were cast, tattered, on the floor by Nix, he vaguely recalled.

He remembered getting the letter of divorce; the small writing telling him that the _bitch___was taking everything. He'd flung open the wardrobe to get a bottle and seen the row of neat, pretty dresses.

He'd torn and ripped them from the hangers, before grabbing a bottle and drowning his sorrows.

Now, he picked up the last bottle carefully, admiring it for a minute. 'You don't need anymore,' came Dick's voice and Lew pointedly ignored him, screwing it open and taking a long drink.

It burnt his throat in soft remembrance and he shut his eyes, savouring.

There was a movement behind him and Winters reached out to take the bottle. Nixon spun, eyes flashing angrily and pushed him back.

'Stay away from me,' he spat. Dick just stared back at him.

'Put the bottle away,' he said in a calm voice.

'Leave me alone. You don't know what its like. You don't know how I feel,' the dark haired man slurred. There were tears in his eyes, cheeks damp, but Winters wasn't sure if Nix knew they were there.

The two stared at each other in silence, before Lew finally lowered the bottle, setting it on the vanity table.

Dick moved to sit on the bed, looking up as Nixon came and sat on the other side. Pulling off his boots, Nix pulled himself onto the bed, settling back against the pillow. Dick stilled for a moment as he felt Lew's hand reach out to grasp his shoulder.

Naturally, he obeyed. With Nixon, he had no control. The redhead laid back, sighing as Lew rolled onto his side.

'She took my dog,' he murmured, as Winters shifted up to kiss him on alcohol tasting lips.

'We'll get a new dog,' he promised. Lew nodded, paused, and then leaned down to drown his sorrows in a different way.

With lips locked, Dick reached out and shut off the lamp.

##


	21. Snuggles

**Pairing: **Perco/O'Keefe

**Rated: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them. Thank you =]

**Other information:** Just a little fluff !

Snuggle

Perconte was not a huggable person. He did not give, nor want hugs.

Well, that's what he thought. But, if that's what he thought and if that was what he was, then why was he sat here with his arms around O'Brien?

Was it because he pitied the sobbing young man; the horrors of the concentration camps had left their marks on everybody, but that didn't mean he was suddenly some big, huggable bunny rabbit.

O'Greggory looked up; eyes red-rimmed and he gave a sniff. He looked very pathetic, Perco had to add. But, his heart strings were officially (if temporarily) pulled and he fondly ruffled O'Dougnal's hair.

'All those people...' he trailed off, another tear leaking. Perconte nodded, gently tugging himself out of O'Kieran's grip.

'Some bird told me that Luz has a few Hershey Bars hanging around,' he said, with an odd twitch of a smile. O'Fatty nodded, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand.

'Thanks, Frank.'

'Anytime, O'Gunnery.'

'Frank?'

'Yeah?'

'It's O'Keefe.'


	22. You found Me

**Title:** You found me

**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Babe/Julian

**Rating: **M

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or know the real men of Easy Company. This is not based on the real soldiers who fought in WWII, only the actors who portray them. I do not know the real veterans, nor would I wish to offend them.

**A/N: **I wrote this ages ago and it's been in my fanfic folder, so I decided to type it up and change a few things, before letting you guys read it.

You found me

Babe could be difficult.

Well, Julian had a feeling that the cold Bastogne weather made him grouchier than usual, but he hadn't met Babe until now, so he could only guess. When he was in one of those moods, Julian knew it was best to keep quiet and do as he was told.

But, there were some times when Baby liked to relax a little and joke and act like the young man he really was instead of a hardened soldier.

'She was a beauty, I tell you,' he eagerly told Julian while they were huddled in the foxhole together. 'I dated her for three months before I lost myself to her.'

'Lost yourself?' frowned Julian, scooping up snow between his frozen palms and wondering briefly if he should be worried that he couldn't feel the cold anymore.

'Yeah, y'know; Anna was the first I had sex with.' He paused, staring off into the distance as he remembered. 'She was good with her hands.' Babe gave Julian a sideways look. 'Who was your first?'

'It doesn't matter,' Julian shrugged off, dropping the snow between his red fingers.

'No, go on,' Babe pressed. Julian mumbled under his breath, looking up at Babe. The redhead stared back. 'Come on; what did she look like?'

Julian gave a resigned sigh. 'I haven't.'

'What?'

'I've not done it before.'

'You're a virgin?' Babe grinned, unable to believe his ears. 'Are you telling me you've never done it? In your whole life?'

'No,' the replacement flushed as Babe burst out into delighted laughter.

'_Keep it_ _down_!' they heard another soldier hiss from nearby.

'You've never fucked a broad?' With a grunt of irritation, Julian shifted in the cramped hole to turn his back on Babe and stared out at the line. Babe shifted closer. 'You've jerked off before, haven't you?'

'_Yes_,' Julian hissed, feeling more embarrassed by the minute.

'Well, at least you know how to do that,' Babe muttered, still grinning at this new found fact. 'Never had a woman…' he murmured to himself. 'Unreal. I can't wait for this Goddamn war to end. I'm gonna go home and see Anna. What are you going to do after the war?' he asked, nudging Julian with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

'I have a girl back home,' he said, sighing softly. 'Louise. I guess it would be the right time to… y'know.' He gave Babe a sheepish smile.

'And in the meantime?'

'In the meantime?' Julian frowned.

'Yeah; the war could go on for years yet.'

'I still don't understand what you mean.' Babe pulled a face and shifted as close as he could get. Julian stiffened as he felt the redhead's hand on his thigh. His eyes widened, shocked at his own body's response, feeling his stomach tighten.

Babe licked his bottom lip, before leaning close to kiss his jaw. Night was falling, casting them in darkness.

'What if we get caught?' Julian whispered, a steady tremble to his voice. Babe didn't answer, but shifted to get on his knees. He knelt in front of Julian, shivering hands coming down to release him from his combats.

Julian stared down at the redhead, before he brought his hand up to grip Babe's hair. The cold air stung his hard member, cooling the fire that surged through him.

'Take it,' said a hoarse voice and he blinked in surprise when he realized that he'd said that. 'Goddamn…'

Babe smirked up at him, eyes never leaving Julian's as he took the heated head between chapped lips, his teeth applying the slightest pressure. Julian's hips bucked and Baby pressed his hands down on his thighs to stop the movements.

He took more of Julian, moving a hand to work the base. Julian's body stiffened, surprised at the sudden urge to come. His limbs felt frozen in place, body heaving as he came in Babe's mouth.

Then, he slumped backwards, eyes still squeezed shut. He panted, loosening his hand from Babe's hair as the redhead sat up. He wiped some come from his chin with the back of his hand, before giving a grin.

'The war could go on for years yet,' he murmured against Julian's lips, before kissing him.


	23. Tears streaking dirty faces

**Title: **Tears streaking dirty faces  
**Fandom: **Band of Brothers  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s): **Winters, Hall, teeniest hint of Winters/Nixon  
**Prompt:** 008: Innocence  
**Rating: **PG-15  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** Minor character death  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own Band of Brothers, or any of the actors/real men. I mean no disrespect. Based on the actors only.  
**A/N:** Well, I wanted to get back to my prompts and this is what I wrote! It's another odd poetic thing that makes no sense at all xD

Tears streaking dirty faces

Winters remembered his face well.

Dark, curious eyes, so young and eager, set in a rounded, youthful face. Blood stained his jaw, cheek blown out from the bullet. Eyes wide, staring, ever staring and mournful.

Surprised. _Why am I dead? I was alive and now I lie here. How could you let this happen?_ The words were mocking and for a moment, Dick could almost see the look of questioning in his glazed eyes.

_Say my name._

'Hall.' Dick murmurs the word, the tips of his fingers red from the blood, having brushed the cheek when swiping lightly at the flies. An overwhelming guilt threatened his drown him, as it seemed an age that he knelt there, staring into dead eyes, blood dribbling over pewter cold skin.

Not pewter cold. He was wrong. Hall had been alive mere moments ago, body still warm from the blast. He'd been so eager to prove himself for the likes of Guarnere and the other men, so willing and determined…

Determination only got you so far. It's nothing when you lie dead.

Dick finally draws himself together, but his face is blank, wiped of all emotion. There is nothing more he can do here, yet he can't get himself to leave.

'Hall,' he murmured again, the sigh heavy on crimson lips. Crimson like the blood streaked across Hall's face. He can see muscle and flesh and blood, specks of dirt and soil. Possibly a bullet, lodged deep in bone?

No. Winters doesn't see that. He got to his feet, wiping his fingers on the material of his thigh, eyes lingering and taking Hall in. So innocent, so young. Died a hero.

Does he still believe that? He can almost see Nixon mocking along with Hall, stood shoulder to shoulder, the only difference being mortality. Nix is still there in the flesh to comfort him later when Winters is silent and still remembering.

Does he still believe that? The word tossing itself around his head, yelling and screaming for an answer and those eyes are still staring, but now they look scared and tearful, though tears will never streak those cheeks again.

_Why? Why me? I was just trying to help. I wanted to show them I could do it. I'm not a child anymore._

Died as a hero. _Does he still believe that?_

Yes. Yes he does.


End file.
